Words in stone I can
still hear, just, or see

their shadows holding in
breath so as not be blown

away here where sermons
in stone are rare now but

sometimes their spirits
fly about doing their best to

turn the world around, shake
and right it to come again

fresh for you, young
at the hem of time’s

long shadow, the sky
forever full of signs and

surprises like frost at night,
or the sun in the morning.